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      “Mom, I’m a big girl.”

      “I know, but with all the upsets you’ve been through lately…” Mrs. Sims didn’t finish. They both knew all too well what Millicent had been through.

      “I love you for caring about me. But I feel like I need to do this alone. Take back control of my life, you know?” Again they were silent, thinking of how Millicent’s life had temporarily spun out of control. “But I will never be able to thank you enough, Mom. You were my rock when I stood on very shaky ground.”

      Mrs. Sims laughed. “That’s what mothers are sometimes. You’ll see, when it comes to your children, you’ll do anything.”

      Millicent changed the subject. To think about children, she’d have to think about a husband, and that was the last thing she wanted on her mind. “My agent left a message; she has a couple condos in La Jolla for me to check out.”

      “Oh, that’s great, Millie. I think your moving out of LA was the best idea.”

      “I do, too. La Jolla is a beautiful area, and the people at the computer company seem really nice. Lots of work coming up in these next few weeks and that’s just what I need to stay busy.”

      “That’s right. And you need God, too, dear. Don’t forget to start looking for a church home.”

      Millicent wasn’t going down that road either. She was sure she’d find one eventually, but she was not in any big hurry to join another church. “We’re almost at the condo, Mom. I’ll call you later. I love you.”

      “Love you, too, dear.”

      The driver turned the corner and there it was—the condo Millicent had proudly called home for almost five years. She’d leased it out on a month-to-month basis during her time in Portland, but now with it sold, she needed to move what furniture remained to storage and say good-bye to a chapter of her life that was forever closed. The driver was already out, placing her suitcases on the sidewalk. With a sigh of resignation mixed with determination, Millicent got out of the car and walked into the lobby.

      “Nice place,” the driver commented cheerfully, putting suitcases near the elevator.

      “Yes,” Millicent responded simply.

      “Wish I could afford to live in a neighborhood like this. I can’t imagine coming here every night.”

      Millicent smiled, busying herself by helping bring in the suitcases. Her heart beat rapidly, but she tried to ignore the building anxiety, tried to calm it with conscious breathing: in, hold three counts, out.

      The driver came in with the last two cases and joined Millicent at the elevator. “You must have been gone a while,” he said, pointing to the luggage.

      “Yes.” Millicent tried not to be annoyed. The man was just being friendly. Still, she pushed the already lit elevator button again and then reached for her wallet. “Thank you,” she said, handing the driver the fare plus a generous tip.

      His eyes widened when he saw three Benjamins. Looking at Millicent with dreamy eyes, the driver responded in what was his attempt at sexy. “No, baby doll, thank you!”

      Is he trying to flirt? He had no idea how not the one she was. She was so not the one. One of the last men to do that had ended up being stalked by a crazed woman in a wedding gown! For the first time, Millicent almost smiled at the thought.

      The elevator doors opened, and she and the driver began placing the bags inside. “You need help up with these?” he asked, obviously wanting to prolong their encounter.

      “No, thank you, I’ve got it from here.” She was saved from further questioning by the elevator door closing in his face.

      Millicent slowly moved the bags from the elevator to her front door. She paused, took a deep breath, and placed the key in the lock. As she opened the door and walked inside, she closed her eyes on the tears that threatened, then opened them again. A bit of a sting, but easier than she’d thought it would be. The impersonality of the place helped. Jenny had removed all of the more personal touches, photographs and other identifying belongings, and placed them in storage before renting the condo out. And now the place belonged to someone else. One more step in starting over.

      One by one, Millicent brought her suitcases inside. Once they were in, she closed the door and again looked around. She walked into the kitchen, the dining room. She walked to the bathroom and stopped. This had been one of her favorite places, a bit harder to face now. So many dreams she’d created while soaking in the Jacuzzi tub, dreams that had floated away, disappeared down the drain, like the bathwater. Before the tears could gather, she walked briskly back into her bedroom, picked up the briefcase containing her laptop, and walked to the desk. Stay focused, Millicent. Guard your thoughts. Millicent sat and redirected her energy to preparing the condo for its new owner, looking at the potential homes Jenny had selected for her, and drafting a marketing outline for her new boss. The time for dreams was gone. With steely resolve, Millicent focused on her reality.

      4

      That’s What Friends Are For

      Vivian Montgomery waited at the predesignated meeting point, tapping her foot impatiently. Her children, nine-year-old Derrick Jr. and his seven-year-old sister, Elisia, were getting perilously close to failing their lesson on responsibility. She’d clearly told them to meet her by the Starbucks in Barnes & Noble in exactly one hour, and she’d made sure her and her son’s cell phone alarms were set. The children were young, but she liked to loosen the reins every now and then, give them some independence. Plus, their neighbor’s son, Chris, was with them, and he was eleven. She felt okay with them on their own at the Westside Pavilion, but one more minute, and—

      “Hello? Yes, you’d better be on your way. I didn’t tell you to call me in an hour, I told you to meet me in an hour. Bye.” Letting out the worried breath she’d refused to acknowledge she’d been holding, Vivian strolled down the aisles, casually scanning the book covers. Just as she heard Elisia’s high-pitched laugh, she glimpsed the store’s CD section.

      “I told them, Mama, I told them to come on,” Elisia said as she ran to Vivian.

      “No, she didn’t. She was too busy playing to even listen to me tell her it was time to go,” D-2 countered.

      “Uh-uh. I told you, I said let’s go ’cause Mama said one hour—”

      “You a lie! You—”

      “Enough,” Vivian said in a low tone that brooked no argument. “Both of you were irresponsible. You need to understand that a big part of responsibility,” she said, dragging out the word for emphasis, “is being able to follow through when a direction is given. Especially when it’s your mama’s direction, and especially when that one direction may determine whether you get to follow through on any further such directions.”

      Silence.

      “Now, calling was good, Derrick; it let me know that you were all right. But being where I told you when I told you would have been better.” She looked at Chris, who’d become extremely preoccupied with the pattern on the floor. “And what do you have to say, young man? You’re the oldest of this bunch.”

      “Uh, I was so busy making sure no one bothered Elisia that I, uh, lost track of time.”

      “I see,” Vivian said with exaggerated slowness. “You got some oceanfront property in Nevada you want to sell me, too?”

      “Ma’am?”

      So now he was going to act like he was deaf or confused. “You heard me,” she said seriously, while mussing his curly dark hair. “Come on, let’s go look at CDs. I need to get some music.”

      Vivian reached the CD aisle and began to browse.

      “Mama, can we go look at our music?”

      “Yes, D-2. Elisia, stay with me.” She walked over to the R & B section,

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